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42 Jackie Robinson: The first—and foremost. (Sid Luckman, Nate Thurmond.)
43 Richard Petty: Long live the King. (Dennis Eckersley, Brad Daugherty.)
44 Hank Aaron: Long live the one-time Home Run King. (Jerry West, Reggie Jackson.)
45 Bob Gibson: Hard to believe that 1.16 ERA in ’68. (Archie Griffin, Pedro Martinez.)
46 Andy Pettitte: Haven’t had a Yankee for a while. (Lee Smith, Chuck Muncie.)
47 Tom Glavine: Always in control. (Mel Blount, Jack Morris.)
48 Lee Smith: Just one of this closer’s many numbers. (Torii Hunter, Moose Johnston.)
49 Ron Guidry: It’s not a Yankee thing—honest. (Tim Wakefield, Tom Landry.)
50 David Robinson: Athlete, officer, and gentleman. (Rebecca Lobo, Mike Singletary.)
The puck that Maurice Richard scored to set the all-time NHL record for goals in 1952 (325 at the time) is actually in the possession of Queen Elizabeth II, who was a fan.
51 Dick Butkus: The twentieth-century QB’s nightmare. (Randy Johnson, Ichiro Suzuki.)
52 Ray Lewis: The twenty-first-century QB’s nightmare. (Mike Webster, C. C. Sabathia.)
53 Don Drysdale: Wed a Hall of Famer, Ann Meyers. (Harry Carson, Artis Gilmore.)
54 Goose Gossage: Took him too long to get to Cooperstown. (Brian Urlacher.)
55 Orel Hershiser: 59 consecutive scoreless innings. (Junior Seau, Dikembe Mutombo.)
56 Lawrence Taylor: Kept offensive coordinators up nights. (Mark Buehrle.)
57 Johan Santana: Two Cy Youngs and counting. (Tom Jackson, Dwight Stephenson.)
58 Jack Lambert: The first of two great Steeler LBs named Jack. (Jonathan Papelbon.)
59 Jack Ham: The second. (London Fletcher, Donnie Edwards.)
60 Chuck Bednarik: Last of the two-way linemen. (Tommy Nobis, Otto Graham.)
61 Curley Culp: Loved those Raiders-Chiefs games—and this KC DT. (Bill George.)
62 Jim Langer: The perfect center for the perfect Dolphins. (Ed White.)
63 Willie Lanier: He was right there behind Culp. (Gene Upshaw, Lee Roy Selmon.)
64 Jerry Kramer: Dick Schaap wrote books about him. (Jack Reynolds, Dave Wilcox.)
65 Gary Zimmerman: Blocked for Steve Young in the USFL. (Elvin Bethea, Tom Mack.)
66 Mario Lemieux: The center who saved Pittsburgh. (Ray Nitschke, Larry Little.)
67 Reggie McKenzie: Let’s give it up for Buffalo’s Electric Company. (Art Still.)
68 Jaromir Jagr: A near equal to Lemieux with the Penguins. (L. C. Greenwood.)
69 Mark Schlereth: Stink had almost that many knee surgeries. (Tim Krumrie.)
70 Jim Marshall: Did more than run the wrong way. (Sam Huff, Rayfield Wright.)
The winner of the 3000-meter steeplechase in the 1952 Helsinki Olympics was 29-year-old FBI agent Horace Ashenfelter, who trained at night in Glen Ridge, New Jersey, by running over park benches.
71 Tony Boselli: The epitome of the right offensive tackle. (Alex Karras, Fred Dean.)
72 Carlton Fisk: A double play—Pudge’s White Sox number. (Ed Jones, William Perry.)
73 John Hannah: SI called him “the best offensive lineman of all time.” (Joe Klecko.)
74 Bob Lilly: He spelled Doomsday for Dallas. (Merlin Olsen, Ron Mix.)
75 Mean Joe Greene: That Coke commercial still gets to me. (Howie Long, Barry Zito.)
76 Lou Groza: The Toe! (Rosey Grier, Marion Motley.)
77 Red Grange: The Galloping Ghost! (Ray Bourque, Jim Parker.)
78 Anthony Muñoz: Great number for the trenches. (Art Shell, Bruce Smith, and Bubba Smith.)
79 Bob St. Clair: Impressive Canton credentials. (Harvey Martin, Rosey Brown.)
80 Jerry Rice: Greatest receiver of all time. (Cris Carter, Kellen Winslow.)
81 Tim Brown: Favorite of an amazing WR group. (TO, Randy Moss, Art Monk.)
82 Raymond Berry: Old-school, I know, but there’s nobody smarter. (John Stallworth.)
83 Andre Reed: Very underrated receiver. (Ted Hendricks, Mark Clayton.)
84 Shannon Sharpe: A tight end who had to be double teamed. (White Shoes Johnson.)
Eleanor Holm, who won the gold medal in the 100-meter backstroke at the 1932 Los Angeles Games, was expelled from the 1936 U.S. Olympic team because of her misbehavior (drinking, shooting craps, obscenity) aboard the SS Manhattan on its voyage to the games in Berlin.
85 Jack Youngblood: Give me a guy who’ll play hurt. (Max McGee, Nick Buoniconti.)
86 Buck Buchanan: More love for those old Chiefs. (Gary Collins, Hines Ward.)
87 Sidney Crosby: Born on 8/7/87, born to score. (Willie Davis, Dwight Clark.)
88 Lynn Swann: The grace of Swann over the swagger of Michael Irvin.
89 Mike Ditka: How many guys are immortalized in an SNL skit? (Gino Marchetti.)
90 Bob Kurland: A giant of college hoops at Oklahoma A&M. (George Webster.)
After Stella Walsh, the sprinter who won the 100-meter gold medal in the 1932 Olympics, was killed in 1980 by a stray bullet at a Cleveland shopping center, an autopsy revealed that she was actually a man.
91 Dennis Rodman: Bad As I Wanna Be, but great as a rebounder. (Sergei Fedorov.)
92 Reggie White: The Minister of Defense left us way too soon. (Michael Strahan.)
93 Doug Gilmour: Drove hockey opponents crazy. (Dwight Freeney, Gilbert Brown.)
94 Charles Haley: A true champion—five Super Bowl rings. (Kabeer Gbaja-Biamila.)
95 Richard Dent: Driving force on the ’85 Bears D. (Chad Hennings, Chris Hovan.)
96 Clyde Simmons: 15 seasons as a DE in the NFL. (Pavel Bure, Cortez Kennedy.)
97 Cornelius Bennett: Beloved in Tuscaloosa and Buffalo. (Jeremy Roenick.)
98 Tom Harmon: Heisman winner at Michigan and a fine broadcaster. (Tony Siragusa.)
99 Wayne Gretzky: The Greatest One. (George Mikan, Warren Sapp, Manny Ramirez.)
207 Tommie Smith: That’s the number he was wearing when he raised his fist in ’68.
At the 2006 NBA All-Star Jam Session, in Houston, Joseph Odhiambo spun a basketball on his finger for a world-record 4 hours, 15 minutes.
BILL OF RIGHTS
THE ORIOLES ON HOW TO
WEAR YOUR BB CAP
Baseball caps are nearly as old as the game itself: The New York Knickerbockers, the very first organized team, wore them to prevent sunburn and provide shade. They’re nevertheless subject to fashion. Indeed, you can tell a lot about a person by the bill of his (or her) cap: curved or straight; frontward, backward, or askew. Among actual baseball players nowadays, there’s the old-school crescent bill and the new-school flat bill. Oriole second baseman Brian Roberts, who’s a traditionalist, molds the bill of his 100 percent wool cap by (1) dipping it in water, (2) zapping it in a microwave for 20 seconds, and (3) rolling the brim in his palms a couple of dozen times before heading out to play.
There are other variations of the water-heat torture method, some involving dishwashers and ovens, but the basic idea is to make the cardboard inside the brim more malleable. To get just the right arch, you can also jam the bill into a coffee cup and leave it overnight or wrap it around a hair spray bottle and secure it with rubber bands.
Upholding tradition: Brian Roberts.
The Cleveland Indians, named after Penobscot Indian Louis Sockalexis, have had five other Native American players: Virgil Cheeves (Cherokee), Jesse Petty (Cherokee), Ike Kahdot (Potowatomie), Cal McLish (Choctaw), and Allie Reynolds (Muskogee).
The flat visor, however, has become more and more popular since being introduced to mainstream baseball by the Harlem entry in the 2002 Little League World Series. Oriole closer George Sherrill rocks a corpse-stiff brim, which he preserves by placing his cap in a hatbox after each game. (He discards caps that develop a curve.) Whenever Sherrill saves a game, his teammates—including Roberts—flip up their brims in tribute. Sherrill says his style is not a fashion statement but rather a sensitive reaction: “Because I’m left-handed, the bill of my cap would alw
ays bend a little bit lopsided, and other players would ride me because I couldn’t get it quite right.”
On the cutting edge: George Sherrill.
JOCK IN CHIEF
CURLY LAMBEAU WRITES
TO GERALD FORD
Gerald R. Ford, our 38th president, may not have been our finest chief executive, but he was probably the best athlete to live in the White House. He’s certainly the only president to ever get a job offer from Curly Lambeau, the Green Bay Packers coach.
At the time, Ford was a University of Michigan senior, the departing captain of a Wolverine team that had won just one game in the 1934 season. But Ford had played so well and so hard at center and linebacker that he was invited to the East-West Shrine Game in San Francisco, which is where Lambeau saw him.
On stationery bearing the letterhead “Green Bay Football Corporation” and dated February 11, 1935, Lambeau wrote:
Dear Ford:
While on the Coast you told me you were undecided in regard to playing professional football.
We plan on signing a center for the coming season and will pay you $110.00 per game if you wish to join the “Packers”. Our league schedule is not drafted but we usually play fourteen games. We pay in full after each contest and all players are paid whether they play or not and, naturally, all injured players are paid immediately after each game.
Will appreciate an early reply.
With kindest personal regards, I am
Sincerely,
E. L. Curly Lambeau
GREEN BAY FOOTBALL CORPORATION
Ford turned down Lambeau’s offer in order to accept a coaching position at Yale University and enroll in its law school. Who knows? If Lambeau had offered him, say, $125 a game, the course of history might have changed.
Gerald Ford, captain of the Michigan Wolverines, 1934.
READY FOR PRIME TIME
THE INS AND OUTS OF
PLAYGROUND HOOPS
How do you get from the driveway to the playground? How do you go from shooting hoops by yourself to getting into a pickup game? Before he joined the And1 tour, Aaron “A.O.” Owen was a fixture on the courts at Philadelphia’s Connie Mack Recreation Center. Says Owen, “Basketball’s great because you can play alone and all you need is a ball. But at the playground, all that shooting and dribbling by yourself won’t translate to the game. That’s not enough to get you picked.” Here are A.O.’s suggestions on how to get off the fence and onto the court:
Don’t travel. “Stick with the park that’s closest. You know the skill level of the guys in your neighborhood, so you know if you’ll be able to play. Also, the playground is like the club: You’re more likely to get in if you know somebody.”
Bring a buddy. “A lot of times you’ll shoot to see who’s captain, who does the picking. If you or your friend can shoot, the other one is guaranteed a spot.”
Avoid rush hour. “At Connie Mack on Saturday and Sunday afternoons, it was all older guys, and there’d be 50 or so people waiting for a game. You could wait all day and never play.”
Specialize. “Find one thing to be skilled at and work that. If you can rebound, if you’re a shooter, if you’re a dunker—do that while people are picking. Show that you can round out their team.”
Swallow your inner whistle. “Some parks are rougher than others, so you have to show that hard fouls don’t bother you. Play hard anyway, and they’ll stop trying to take you out.”
Don’t tell a book by its cover. “There was this guy at a court in Newport Beach, California, wore slip-on Vans, a fisherman’s hat, and cargo shorts. Looking at him, I didn’t know if he was homeless or what. He ended up being one of the best players I’ve ever played against.”
NBA star Allan Houston talks to the crowd at legendary Rucker Park in New York during the 5th Annual Father Knows Best Celebrity 2-on-2 Basketball Game on June 14, 2008.
GOLDEN PARACHUTES
SPORTS KICKED OUT OF
THE OLYMPICS
Baseball and softball will not be included in the 2012 Olympics in London. But at least they’re in good, bad, and weird company. These are the other sports that have been kicked out of the games:
The worst round in the history of golf’s U.S. Open belongs to J. D. Tucker, who shot a 157 in the first round of the 1898 Open at the Myopia Hunt Club in South Hamilton, Massachusetts. The next day he pared 57 strokes off his score for an even 100.
Sport Last Appearance in Olympics
Cricket 1900
Croquet 1900
Basque pelota 1900
Golf 1904
Roque 1904
Lacrosse 1908
Jeu de paume 1908
Rackets 1908
Motorboating 1908
Tug-of-war 1920
Rugby 1924
Polo 1936
The tug-of-war event during the 1920 Olympic Games in Antwerp, Belgium.
THE MASTER
A GOLF LESSON FROM
BOBBY JONES
The essence of golf is integrity, in no small part because one of its greatest players, Bobby Jones, was also one of its most honorable. A true renaissance man who studied engineering at Georgia Tech, English literature at Harvard, and law at Emory, Jones won 13 major tournaments between 1923 and his retirement from competition, in 1930. He then co-designed Augusta National and helped found the Masters.
He might have had one more major, the U.S. Open in 1925, had he not been so honest. During the final playoff, at the Worcester Country Club, Jones hit his ball into the long grass on the steep bank of the 11th green. As he addressed the ball, he thought he saw it move. He turned to the marshals and called a two-stroke penalty on himself. The marshals conferred and questioned members of the gallery to see whether anyone else had seen the ball move. Nobody had, so the marshals left the call up to Jones, who insisted that the penalty be assessed. He lost the Open by a single stroke.
When praised for his honesty, Jones replied, “You might as well praise me for not breaking into banks. There is only one way to play this game.”
No wonder the annual USGA sportsmanship award is named for Bobby Jones.
Bobby Jones on his way to victory during the British Open Championship at St Andrews, 1927.
The 10th hole at the Old Course in St. Andrews, Scotland, is named for Bobby Jones, who withdrew in frustration during the third round of the 1921 British Open while on the 11th hole.
“BOOM GOES THE DYNAMITE”
A SPORTSCAST FOR THE AGES
It’s widely acknowledged as the worst sports broadcast ever, 3 minutes and 54 seconds of unintended comedic cringe that has earned a permanent place on YouTube (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W45DRy7M1no).
The time. March 2005.
The place. The Ball State University television studio.
The circumstance. The scheduled anchor for the NewsLink @ Nine sportscast had canceled.
The hapless volunteer replacement. Brian Collins, a 19-year-old telecommunications freshman from Milan, Ohio.
Brian figured, How hard can it be, reading some scores, breezing through the highlights? Unfortunately, the person on the teleprompter was also new and accidentally fast-forwarded through the script. So Brian could only pick out a word here or there before the copy disappeared from the prompter screen.
Now, he did have the typewritten script in front of him, in case of emergency. Alas, the pages were hopelessly out of order. So nothing Brian said matched up to what was being shown. He kept looking at the wrong TV monitor. Somebody walked behind him during the telecast. At one point during the torturous broadcast, Brian glanced at someone off camera and mouthed the words “I’m so sorry.”
Whereas a lesser man might have walked off the set, Brian sighed and soldiered on. When he got to the Nets-Pacers highlights, he was winging it: “Later he gets the rebound…passes it to the man…shoots it…and boom goes the dynamite.”
The broadcast became legend, in part because Ball State alumnus David Letterman got wind of it and invited Brian
to appear on the Late Show. ESPN anchor Scott Van Pelt sent Brian a note of encouragement and still uses “boom goes the dynamite” as a shoutout. As for Brian, not only did he survive the experience, but he now works for KXXV-TV in Waco, Texas—as a news reporter.
Four of the top 10 scorers for the 1976-77 NBA season were refugees from the American Basketball Association: Billy Knight, David Thompson, Dan Issel, and George Gervin.
THE HEATER
CHRIS YOUNG ON HOW TO
THROW IT BY THEM
It goes by many names: heater, hummer, cheese, cheddar, smoke, steam, dart, dead red, hard one, number one, bullet, blazer, bee at the knee, gas, pumper, aspirin tablet, and—in scoutspeak—little baseball. As in “he throws little baseballs.”
We’re speaking, of course, of the fastball, and it is an essential tool of the baseball or softball pitcher. Whether you throw as hard as Nolan Ryan did (95-100 mph) or as soft as Jamie Moyer (80–85 mph), you need to have a fastball to get an out or at least to set up the pitches that will get the outs.
For tips on the baseball side, we went to one of the younger students of the game, San Diego Padres right-hander Chris Young, who also happens to be a graduate of Princeton University with a major in political science. Granted, at 6 foot 10, Young is probably taller than you, but he also possesses what coaches call an educated hand, meaning that he has the ability to alter his grips and make the ball respond. We’ll let him explain the two basic types of fastballs: the four-seamer, which is his bread-and-butter pitch, and the two-seamer, also known as a sinker:
The four-seam fastball is a control pitch, a pitch that has less movement than a sinker, slider, curveball, changeup, or knuckleball. Although it is a control pitch, it can also be a power pitch that can have the illusion of rising when thrown up in the zone. Nolan Ryan is the best example of a power pitcher who often used a high four-seam fastball to finish hitters off.